


Underfoot

by Hopetohell



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Boot Worship, Degradation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: Would you like to lick his boot, darling? I think he’d rather prefer to have it inside you, as far as he can get.When you’re in the mood for degradation, Walker is your man.
Relationships: August Walker/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Underfoot

God, and it’s just obscene, isn’t it, the way you moan wetly around his boot. You taste leather and the faintest hint of boot black, chemical and dangerous. And Walker might not normally wear this kind of boot, smooth and shiny and clinging to his calf, but by god does he wear it well. 

_Lick, go on, get it wet, get it clean. You wanted this, filthy little thing, and now you’ll have to bear the cost. You’ll get nothing else from me._

_That’s it, on your belly. Legs open. More. I said more. You know what to do, I hope, there’s got to be at least a little brain in there. Yeah, that’s right. Slide back, there you go. Fuck yourself on my fucking boot. I don’t care if it hurts, that’s your problem, not mine._

The toe of his boot presses inside and it hurts, it hurts, you’re not ready, but slickness is pooling on the floor below you and he sees it, sees you wet around his boot, stretched open, pinned and helpless against it. He sees, and his laugh is low and dark. 

_Oh you want it so badly, don't you? You want me to push harder? Like this? Oh don’t cry, you deserve this, every wretched burning inch of it. Keep moving. Keep fucking yourself on my boot, or so help me I will put my entire foot inside you._

_Oh, you like that idea, don’t you? God, you’re a fucking mess, aren’t you? What, my fist isn’t enough for you anymore? Every time I think you can’t get any lower, there you go surprising me again._

And oh, his words are poisoned honey, low and sweet and dangerous as he towers above you, naked except for those fucking boots that cling to his calves. It should be ridiculous but somehow he is even more intimidating naked; he is all hard planes and angles, all power, hairy and virile and foul with the joy he takes in having you beneath him. 

And he’s stroking himself now, openly, his hand soft and indulgent as he watches you suffer with his boot, as you sit like a fucking frog with your belly to the ground and knees wide to hold your cunt open for him, to let him see every wretched little movement as you rock back onto his boot as best you can. And he helps, a little, because as much as he derides you for it, fuck does he ever want to see that boot disappear inside you. Only the toes are in you and it has you sweating and shaking, your blasphemy hanging in the air as you chant his name, as you call him _my god, my god, let me come, please, I need to_ but he is so very unkind. 

What does he care if you come or not? You’re lower than low, you’re a smear on his boot. It warms his heart to see the way you struggle through the pain and the awkward angle and the desperation. It makes him lift the toe of his boot just a little, makes him pulse to hear your scream, pained and desperate and so, so eager. 

And he strokes himself to completion, spattering hot and sticky on your back and the swell of your ass. Breathing hard, he withdraws his boot even as it pulls a whine from you. He kneels and plunges his fingers into you, _dirty creature, look at how wet you are from this,_ he swipes his hand across your back and gathers his seed on his fingers, pushes them back inside. 

_You are mine, inside and out._

And you fall apart to his words and touch and your own burning shame and it is good, so good, 

_God you were so perfect for me, christ, you took my boot like you were born to it. No, don’t try to get up yet. You’re still shaking. Stay down. There you are. That’s better._


End file.
